


Promises Remembered

by LoreKeeper427



Series: A Promise of Convenience [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canon Elements, F/M, Fluff and Angst, No Smut, POV Multiple, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22429168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreKeeper427/pseuds/LoreKeeper427
Summary: A collection of drabbles and shorts that add onto A Promise of Convenience which would not have benefited the overall story to put in the main book.**************Updates will be sporadic and there is no set schedule. As time allows, updates will occur.Rated for LanguagePlease note: There may be possible triggers in this fic. Please take care of yourself and get a pre-reader if necessary. Chapters are indicated with a warning beforehand if content could be sensitive to readers. Take care of yourself.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Series: A Promise of Convenience [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615951
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Chrissie no sooner stepped foot in the Grand Hall after returning from a grueling trek through the Exalted Plains when Varric flagged her down.  
  
“You’re back!”  
  
“And in one piece!” 

Varric gave her a quizzical look.  
  
“The ramparts the soldiers constructed are a death trap. After getting turned around repeatedly and walking in circles for hours only to then fight undead, I found it most unpleasant. Would not recommend.”  
  
“Glad I missed that,” he winced. “But I bring good news!”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
He handed her a stack of parchment, bold black ink spanned the top in cursive lettering.  
  
“What is this?”  
  
“I’m calling it,” Varric framed the air as if he could see the print in front of him, “Promises Remembered.”  
  
“Why?” Chrissie quirked an eyebrow, “You said your publisher loved the initial draft.”  
  
He waved his hand, “Yeah, they did. It’ll be distributed to the masses for their collective enjoyment soon. From what I understand.”  
  
“So then,” She flipped through the pages, “why the second copy?”  
  
“Well, it isn’t A Promise of Convenience. No, that story is solid as is.” He said, pride etched in his tone. “This,” he rapped the parchment, “is all the adventures that didn’t make sense to put within the book because they didn’t add to the overall tale or anything considered extra material. Not to mention, this will include every important event to happen after the main story. Small passages which can stand on their own.”  
  
“Like the wedding.”  
  
“Now you’re getting it!”  
  
“Okay,” Chrissie sucked her teeth, “one question.”  
  
“Fire away.”  
  
“Does Cullen know? He wasn’t thrilled with your version of the story last time.”  
  
“Eh,” Varric shrugged, “I’m not worried,”  
  
Chrissie bit her lip, “Maybe you should be.”  
  
“Nah, I can hear the two words that will change Curly’s tune now.” He held a hand up to his ear, “What’s that?” Varric asked aloud, waiting for a response that never came. “Oh yeah, _Best Seller._ ”  
  
Chrissie laughed.  
  
“Anyway, give it a read and let me know what you think.”  
  
She sighed, but nodded, “Will do, Varric.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT UP: THE WEDDING!


	2. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Topics of interest//TW: None that I can think of.

Chrissie woke up at the usual time. The sun streamed in, bathing her quarters in light. She yawned and stretched her muscles before resting her head against the pillow. “Just a few more minutes,” she said sleepily,shifting to make herself more comfortable. Abruptly rising to a sitting position, she remembered one very important detail. “Maker! I’m getting married today!”  
  
Her eyes widened and her hands trembled. Stomach full of butterflies, nausea settled in. The excitement and anxiety combined together made her a bundle of nerves. Composing herself as best she could, Chrissie glanced at Cullen’s side of the bed, the still perfectly made half of the blanket proved it hadn’t been slept in.  
  
Tradition warned a bride and groom were not able to see each other until the ceremony on the day of the wedding. And after all she and Cullen dealt with to arrive at this point, neither dared question fate. Yet, she simply couldn't shake the paranoia; something bad would happen.  
  
A knock rapped against the door but it swung open before Chrissie made it across the room. Josephine stood, tray in hand and a pair of visitors behind her.  
  
“Good Morning.”  
  
“Inquisitor, allow me to introduce you.” Josie curtseyed, balancing the tray with graceful movement. “I believe you know Adolphe.” She gestured to the man behind her.

“Yes, we’re acquainted.” _More like he wouldn’t stop screeching until I stood more still than a statue for three hours._

“Ah, I see the great Adolphe Beaufort needs no introduction!”

Chrissie refrained from commenting, regardless of what she might say about him, she could not dispute the quality of his work. Behind Adolphe, a dainty elf carrying a large bag gave a timid wave.  
  
“This is Anay’lha.” Josie explained. “She will be doing your hair and applying your rouge today.”  
  
“A pleasure to meet you.”  
  
“While they prepare their stations, you will have the most important meal of the day, breakfast! Come.” Josephine walked over, setting down the tray on the desk. “Eat!”  
  
Following as instructed, Chrissie sat, taking a full accounting of the spread. “Coffee, milk, orange juice, Orlesian toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon…” Her brows knit, “Isn’t this excessive? Just how much do you think I’ll eat?”  
  
“No.” Josie said, “Nothing is overmuch today. I have ensured everything will go according to plan. You will be beautiful, the Commander will look his most handsome. And there is not a single thing which could ruin this day that we have not prepared for.”  
  
Chrissie rubbed her hand across her forehead. Josie hadn’t said nothing would go awry, simply that whatever did would be handled. “After everything Cullen and I have been through, I worry. I fear with my luck, a rift will open in the courtyard during the ceremony.”

Josphine gasped, “Do not say such things! That is far too much negativity. I know you haven’t been able to go outside to avoid ruining the surprise, but the lilies decorating Skyhold’s gate are some of the loveliest I’ve seen.”  
  
Warmth blossomed in Chrissie’s chest. “It was only appropriate we wed where our journey started.” A smile played at her lips, remembering. _“Meet Ser Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition forces, former Knight Commander of Kirkwall and my betrothed.”_ _  
__  
_She had no idea it would ever come to pass. And today, he changed from betrothed to husband.

 _My husband. How surreal.  
  
_ Josephine’s eyes narrowed, determination set on her features. In a tone seldom heard from the Ambassador, her words adopted a stern, sharp edge. “Listen to me carefully, Inquisitor. This will be the perfect occasion. Every detail planned to the finest. Leliana and I have this well in hand.”  
  
It should have provided relief, but requiring precautions at all was disconcerting. “Pretty much the only thing I’m not concerned about is Cullen showing up. That much, I know I can count on.”

“Excellent!” Josephine clapped, “Then there is nothing more you need. Now,” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “you must be over Thedas’ moons to be getting married. No?”  
  
“Yes.” Chrissie wanted to voice more concern, but decided against it, after everything her Spymaster and Ambassador did to guarantee a lovely time, she would at least try not to fret until there was something for certain to fret about. 

To appease Josephine, and in part, to change the topic, Chrissie shoveled a few bites of various foods in her mouth. “I’m afraid if I eat anymore, it’ll get the better of me later.”  
  
“Oh yes. Of course, Inquisitor. Apologies, I hadn’t considered — ”  
  
“It’s all right, really.” It was a wonderful gesture, thoughtful and kind, but Chrissie never had been one to eat breakfast, hating mornings and all routines accompanying the dreadful time of day.  
  
“Shall we, then?” Jospehine asked, shifting in giddy excitement.  
  
“I am at your mercy.”  
  
“Perfect!” She all but squealed, “Anay’lha, if you please.”  
  
The dainty elf motioned for Chrissie to sit in front of the Vanity. Deft fingers raked through Chrissie’s raven hair, combing the lengthy locks.  
  
“Do you have any requests?”  
  
“Surprise me.”  
  
The elf turned toward the Ambassador whose reflection smiled delightfully in the mirror.  
  
“So, I’m thinking something like so…” Josephine explained, holding a handful of hair pulled to the side.” She tilted her head, “Hmm, or perhaps…” Every few seconds, she would rearrange and manipulate the hair differently. “Ah,” She gasped, “this will be perfect.”  
  
Anay’lha began the task of applying beeswax and separating strands before rolling them around a wooden dowel. Heat emanated from her hands while using magic to set the curls. Enduring a few pokes and prods against Chrissie’s scalp was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.  
  
“You will have two ensembles.” Josephine explained, “As will the Commander. One for the actual ceremony to reflect you personally and as a couple. And as a gift, Leliana and I have arranged separate attire for the reception.” _  
__  
_Chrissie groaned, Cullen wouldn’t be happy about a wardrobe change in the middle of an event supposed to be all about the two of them. Trying her damndest not to sound ungrateful, but cater to the demands she knew her soon to be husband would make, she bit her lip. “Is it truly necessary?”  
  
“Yes,” she nodded, “today you both will have it all.”  
  
“Thank you, Josie.”  
  
“Thanks are unnecessary between us, but you are quite welcome. Now, we will ensure you look positively gorgeous.” Josephine sat on the bed, eyeing the result with a critical eye but an approving smile as Anay’lha finished pinning the last of Chrissie’s hair into place. 

Grabbing her large bag, Anay’lha placed it on the vanity with a light thud. “And now, I shall apply your rouge.”  
  
“A darker palette will compliment her complexion.” Josephine directed.

The elf nodded, “Yes, I agree.”  
  
“Perfect! Now if you'll excuse me, Inquisitor, I’m off to check in with our groom.”  
  


Cullen paced.  
  
“You’ll wear out the floor if you don’t calm yourself,” Alistair warned.  
  
With a wave, Cullen dismissed it, “I need to articulate it well, but cannot find the words.”  
  
“Give it a rest. You’re overthinking.” Alistair crossed his arms, “Take a break and come back to it.”  
  
“The ceremony is in hours!”  
  
“See, my point.” Alistair shrugged, “Plenty of time.”  
  
“Not enough! There’s much to still prepare.”  
  
 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

“I hope that’s Dorian.” Alistair made his way toward the door. “With any luck, he can pull your head out of your—” Swinging the door open, he stopped mid sentence, “Ambassador!”

Josephine held a garment bag, standing in front of several muscular servants. “Gentleman.” She curtseyed before entering Cullen’s office and those accompanying her followed behind, carrying a large covered item.  
  
“Funny,” Alistair said, “That doesn’t look like lunch. It’s usually brought by one person, with a tray, and smells delicious.” He waved his hand toward his nose, wafting. “This scent is awfully... metal-like.”

Josephine handed Cullen the garment bag. “Do you recall, losing your armor in Wicked Grace?”  
  
He huffed, “Unfortunately. Few have let me forget.”

“Yes well, it served a greater purpose. Leliana and I suspected this would be the outcome of the ruse. And as such, placed a special request with Harritt.”  
  
The servants set down the mystery item and Josephine grabbed the cloth. “This was the reason.” With a tug, the fabric moved revealing a set of formal ceremonial armor.  
  
Cullen dropped the bag he held, mouth agape, staring at the masterwork before him. On the stand rested pristine silverite plate. Candlelight reflected off the hammered collar, embellished with fine, but intricate detail. Even his mantle had been recreated without the vest underlay but trimmed in black fur with streaks of silver and blue hidden within, barely noticeable.

Alistair let out a low whistle. “And I thought the newest Warden armor was nice.”  
  
“Is it not exquisite?”  
  
Not a word he would generally associate with armor, but the sentiment wasn’t wrong.

Alistair walked a circle around it, admiring. “There are no insignias on it. Shouldn’t it at least have the Inquisition seal?”  
  
Josephine shook her head, but before she could answer Cullen responded, “No.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I represent no one but myself this day.”

Her eyes twinkled, but she nodded proudly. “Precisely.”

“Ambassador, I—” Cullen rubbed his neck, cheeks heating, “Thank you.”  
  
“That one,” she pointed to the bag Cullen dropped, now held by a servant, “is for the reception.”

Ordinarily, he would be irritated at the necessity of switching attire, but right now, he couldn’t care. If it would please the Ambassador after her thoughtful gesture, it was the least he could do.

“How is she?”  
  
“Worried.”  
  
Alistair nudged Cullen’s elbow, “Why does that sound familiar?”

“Not you also.” Josephine tapped her foot, the first sign of impatience he’d seen from the Ambassador in quite a while. “Everything will be perfect. If you two spent as much time getting ready as you are worrying, we would not have any concerns.”

“Apparently,” Alistair explained, “the vows are more challenging than expected.”

“You decided to wait until today!” Josephine’s eyes widened and she shot Cullen a look which could kill. “I would have thought they’d been long prepared by now.”

“They were! Are!” Cullen sighed, “It has been difficult to articulate the depth of what I intend to convey as well as I’d hoped.”

Alistair scratched the stubble on his jaw, “What about Varric?”  
  
“Yes!” The Ambassador clapped, “Surely he could assist.”

Cullen went to protest, but failed to think of a single reason why asking the dwarf for help was a bad idea. It had to be better than recruiting Dorian. The scandalous letter he wrote Chrissie before all but proved this point.

“I shall retrieve him,” Josphine curtseyed. “Worry not, everything will be fine.” With a smile, she left his office.

Chrissie paced, the trail of her dress catching on the carpet ever-so-slightly with each movement. These four walls were making her stir crazy. Never, in all of her tenure with the Inquisition had she felt so trapped or confined.

“I simply need to see people. That they’re all right. No one is making a move, a rift did not manifest itself in the gardens.” She stilled, taking three slow deep breaths. “My parents are working their evil fingers to the bone as servants in Ferelden. There is no coup, no attempts on Cullen’s life, nothing. Just relax.”

“If you’re worried,” Alistair’s voice said behind her, “why not look out the balcony where you can see it all come together?”

So enthralled in her own thoughts, Chrissie hadn’t heard him arrive. Placing her hand to her heart, she tried to calm its erratic beating. “Dorian stopped by earlier and magically sealed them. He wanted to ensure I had a day of tranquility and peace.”

“As you should!”  
  
“It resulted in the opposite.” She sighed and almost ran her hand through her hair, nearly ruining her curls before stopping herself.

“For what it’s worth,” Alistair’s eyes swept over her from head to toe, “you look beautiful, my dear.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from spreading. “Thank you.”

“I came to see how you were doing, but I see you could be better.”

“Yes, I could be, but your presence is certainly a start.”

“Oh?” Alistair’s eyes twinkles mischievously. “You’re not hoping I steal you away before the wedding are you?”

Chrissie cast him a pointed look.

He shrugged, “What? We could make it happen.”

A playful swat to the arm halted his jesting, “Actually, the opposite.” Fidgeting nervously with her hands, she bit her lip before turning back to him. “I was hoping you’d accompany me as my escort down the aisle.”

Alistair’s eyes went wide and he shook his head, an expression of awe on his face. “Me?”  
  
“Yes, you.”  
  
“But, me? Alistair Theirin, he who was nearly a templar, senior member of the Grey Wardens during the blight, king’s bastard, he who had to go into hiding from his own order? Surely, you have some other person better to stand beside.”

“It isn’t a show. I don’t want a representative to impress the masses on behalf of the Inquisition. I want my brother.”  
  
“I,” Alistair tugged at his collar. His eyes grew misty before clearing his throat. He stood straight and offered a smile. “I would be honored.”

A knock on the door preceded Josephine's voice. “Inquisitor, it is time.”  
  
Turning to Alistair, Chrissie gaped. “It’s time. Maker, it’s time!” Running her fingers lightly along her hair, she moved to the mirror, ensuring everything was in the proper place. A stray lock would not be acceptable. Inhaling deeply, she held her breath for a second and released. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. How do I look?”

“Still radiant.” He smiled, extending his arm.

Trembling slightly, she accepted and with matching stride, both walked out the door.  
  


  
Skyhold was astounding without finery. And yet, something about the decorations, so simple and elegant enhanced the entire fortress. Morphing it from a once dusty old ruin, to a castle one would find in fairy stories for children.

A group of Antivan violinists played a serene and soft melody. The select few invited, gathered sitting on both sides of the designated aisle lined with Inquisition guards in formal finery with swords at their sides every five feet. 

Cullen waited in proper position by the gate entrance, mental scolding himself to keep from pacing. Hands trembling, he eagerly awaited his bride. To his right rested an outward facing oak podium etched with precise carvings, courtesy of Blackwall. And behind that, once a member of the Chantry herself, the Inquisition’s own Spymaster prepared as the ceremonial officiant.

Trumpets sounded in three brief staccato blasts and silence fell over the attendees. Emerging at the top of the second set of stairs descending to the courtyard was Christalyne, accompanied by an escort. With his current, distant view, they were partially blocked, gaps of white were seen only through the bushes at the top of the landing.  
  
According to the Ambassador, the lengthy aisle served so every guest could feel the love between them. A sweet, albeit unusual practice in standard Thedosian weddings. But, given Cullen didn’t have to arrange the ceremony himself, he held few qualms regarding how the Ambassador and Spymaster orchestrated the affair. And to speak freely, he hardly cared about the process, just as long as he and Christalyne were married at the end of the day.

As the two descended one flight of stairs, the violinists began playing another melody and the crowd stood and turned toward the bride. Now in full view, he could see Alistair holding her steady and smiled to himself. Not so long ago Cullen had been jealous of the successful warden, but here, he admired him for another reason entirely: standing firm and present as family when he never had to be.

And then, his eyes fell to the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on in all his years. The crowd dissipated as did every single sound, save for the clack of her heels against the stone, each step closing the distance between them.

His heart constricted and his jaw dropped in what he guessed was an unseemly fashion. During any other moment he would have assumed a scolding from the Ambassador was forthcoming, but now, especially, he couldn’t care about anything else.

Chrissie looked like a queen. In place of where a crown could easily rest, was a diamond encrusted barrette, pinning back half of her hair and allowing the remainder to cascade to her breasts. The sleeves of the gown draped around her shoulders and connected to the lace bodice extending downward to her hips. Material flowed outward, spanning to the ground and glittering like stars against a backdrop of white.

And with that, she took his breath away.

His chest filled with pride and adoration and before he knew it, a single tear slid down his cheek. Never once, had he thought he’d be so lucky. In fact, there had been several instances in his lifetime where he was certain he would not have lived to see this day. Yet, despite all odds, both were present, healthy, and happier than they’d ever been. 

As Chrissie and Alistair made it to the first pairing of soldiers, they raised their swords in salute to their leader. It began a chain effect as each repeated the process along the length of the aisle and held until Chrissie and Alistair were two feet from Cullen. Alistair stepped forward first, placing Chrissie’s warm hand in Cullen’s while she positioned herself opposite him. With a quick kiss to her cheek and a nod of approval, Alistair took his place among the guests.

The music ceased and silence fell across the courtyard.  
  
“Please be seated,” Leliana instructed.

The edge in her voice so often heard by the Spymaster was gone, replaced with a calm, even, and dare he say it, happy tone.

Cullen looked at his bride, his heart leaping to see his smile reflected in return. 

_Maker, you look lovely._

So swept up in the moment, he realized he hadn’t heard a word Leliana had said until this point.  
  
Leliana commanded the attention of the spectators, waving her hands across the podium. “This courtship began because of an arrangement of marriage.”

 _To another,_ Cullen thought but didn’t add. Back then, he never could have guessed how it would work out in his favor. And to think, he had once wanted Chrissie to call the whole thing off before it even started.  
  
“It is only fitting the resulting marriage begins with one also.” Leliana held up the contract, a simple but official single page parchment— unlike the standard contracts which held packets. “To be signed on this day in front of all in attendance as witnesses. Now that we’ve come full circle.”

Cullen read the large but impeccable cursive, _Certificate of Marriage._ His eyes glanced over the date, landing on two blank lines, one for his own name, and one for his bride’s. 

Laying the parchment down, she instructed both Chrissie and Cullen forward. “Using ink from the same well, they shall sign simultaneously with separate quills, showing they are forever bound to one another without compromising their individuality, to work together as a team even if separated, remaining united as one.”  
  
Releasing hands only to do as instructed, both Cullen and Chrissie signed their names.

Taking a step back, Cullen admired the document. Skimming to the newly updated lines, he finished reading the now complete sentence. _Cullen Stanton Rutherford and Christalyne are united in the joyous bond of matrimony._ _  
__  
_Her name seemed bare compared to his, since she had legally removed Trevelyan. But it would hardly matter any longer, as she agreed to take his instead.

It was probably a good thing he never insisted on being called by his last name, using only Cullen or Commander to most he was familiar with, otherwise, having Inquisitor Rutherford around could’ve been confusing.

The thought practically made him giddy and he had to mentally scold himself about public decorum, lest the Ambassador need to remind him.

Once finished, Leliana held the signed contract for all to see. “The couple has prepared their own vows. Cullen, if you would...”

He inhaled deeply and exhaled, remembering all he and Varric went over before the ceremony. The dwarf had managed to articulate what Cullen wanted to say, even if it wasn’t necessarily how he would normally do so. Despite being nervous, his voice held no indication, coming across in the same seemingly calm manner it always did with the recruits.

Verbatim, he began to recite the prepared vows, “A partner in life is the greatest anyone can hope to achieve…” He trailed off, realizing how foreign and hollow the words sounded. Shaking his head, he said aloud, “No.”  
  
Worry crossed Chrissie’s expression along with a look of sheer terror. Her hands trembled in his own. Correcting himself was an absolute must, immediately. Collecting his faculties, he started over. “There was a plan. Varric and I spent the moments leading up to the ceremony meticulously selecting every word. And while nice, they were not my own, so I dare not speak them now.”  
  
He cleared his throat, sending a quick prayer to the Maker this would come out coherent and hopefully eloquent. “Everything which happened was unexpected. In every way possible, _you_ were unexpected. When I joined the Inquisition and left the templars behind after having dedicated my life and service to them, I never suspected it would lead me here.”

“And I understand how it must sound, to know I abandoned all I pledged my life to. But this is different, as are you. This is not a profession and I will not find a new cause more worthwhile. _You_ are my cause. _You_ are and will always be worthwhile. I vow to pull you out of the darkness. To show you the path and walk with you, even if you cannot see it yourself.”

“I vow to challenge you, and push you to be your best self. If we disagree, I vow to keep a level head, unlike the war room.” 

A few snickers emerged from the crowd, even one from Chrissie herself. Her eyes now brimming with tears. 

“I shall strive to be and do all for you, that which you’ve done for me.”

Bringing her hands to his lips, he placed a gentle kiss against her skin.  
  
“Christalyne,” Leliana said, “if you would…”  
  
Blinking away the tears, she giggled, “How am I supposed to follow all that?”  
  
Relief settled over him, and he joined the amused crowd in laughter.

“Cullen, for my entire life, I have been on my own. Yet, despite the contract, this is no marriage of convenience. You are, without a doubt, everything I never knew I needed.”

“I had no idea the journey I would embark on when I woke up prisoner in Haven’s chantry. I always said receiving the mark was coincidence, that it could have been any number of people in attendance. And yet, only recently I’ve wondered if there wasn’t a certain level of divine intervention to it. At least in the way that my adventure brought you to me.”

“Had those events not happened, I don’t know that I’d be standing before you today wanting nothing more in the world than to be your wife.” She broke eye contact with him for a moment, glancing at the crowd before returning her gaze. “I have friends and a home now, and soon you’ll be my family.”

“I vow to fight alongside you and still tell you when I think you’re wrong.”

Both laughed, and Cullen released her hand to swipe away a stray tear on her cheek.  
  
“I promise to communicate with you, and hold no secrets. Should the world separate us, I will always find my way back to you, even if I have to claw my way through the Fade to do it, again.”

Cullen chuckled, when not so long ago, it wouldn’t have been remotely funny. “A fine sentiment, but I would prefer it were that not to happen twice.”  
  
Chrissie smiled, “I vow to support and honor you, as you have done for me. Now and always.” She nodded to Leliana, signaling completion.

“Now,” Leliana asked, “you shall exchange rings while making the final promise.”  
  
Cullen stood firm in his proclamation, sliding his family’s wedding ring alongside the engagement heirloom already resting on her finger. “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”

“And Christalyne.” Leliana prompted.  
  
A band to match hers in a men’s style was slid onto his finger. Silverite embellished with three gems, two emerald, one diamond. “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this man the rest of my days.”

“With the power vested in me by the Chantry of Lothering and as Left hand of the Divine, I declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

 _Finally!_ Cullen pulled her to him, gently but firmly. Wrapping his arms around her waist, she simultaneously threw hers around his neck. Their lips met in a passionate, sensual kiss to seal every promise spoken, thought, and felt.  
  
All too soon, it was over, and despite the loud cheers of the crowd, they were forced to pull away.  
  
“Presenting,” Leliana declared, “Cullen and Christalyne Rutherford!”  
  
The first pair of soldiers raised their swords in salute. Following the same pattern down the aisle as before, they created an archway. Except this time, it was a path the newlyweds walked together —the first of many as a married couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. We recently found out we are expecting! So things have been a bit busy around here. Next up, the reception, apologies, I was going to combine the two events, but this chapter got a bit long. The promised art will accompany the following chapter once posted.


End file.
